There's Life Jim, But Not As We Know It
by jobelle516
Summary: Dr Spock, Sims and my imagination from studies collide. Is the world safe? {unleashing my imagination} Please check ratings before reading any of my stories. This one is suitable for all: Rated: K {please don't copy, just read and enjoy}


**Author Note: **This is a clash of Star Trek, my studies and my imagination.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Star Trek, The Sims, Vincent Van Gogh, Feral Cheryl is a borrowed character.

**Music Inspiration: **Ludovico Einaudi, Life. (seems my music machine can only play his album and other stuff that inspires my stories.)

**Rating: **This one is suitable for all, so K. (please check ratings before reading any of my stories.)

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**~ There's Life Jim, But Not As We Know It ~**

Society has changed since the late 20th Century. It has changed so dramatically.

People used to walk in the streets. The shops were in the streets. Animals and pets used to frequent the streets.

Even in the 19th Century Vincent Van Gogh walked more than one kilometre to get to his work.

Now 90% of shops are in roof covered buildings, known as Plazas/Malls. Pets are kept inside their owners properties. Wild animals are kept in reserves or zoos. And mostly people just walk to their cars, to public transport stations.

We could easily think that only birds still had freedom to be as they always were. But this is not the case, not when their habitat is severely cut back, chopped down for fire wood. Forests cleared to make way for urbanisation of humanity.

We are Star Trek thinkers, but we are living Sim!Lives. We connect our minds like the Borg and from up above, looking down we move like Sim!Ants.

Take Feral Cheryl, as an example. See how she flutters from her home to her car, to her work, to the shops and home again. Day in, day out. Sure, she does more than what I say here, we all do.

And like all of us, she carries within her, a huge chunk of sadness. Sadness at how society is not paying attention to the destruction of itself.

As a Sim!World, we look down on buildings without roof tops. Planned streets and buildings that seem quietly organized. But if we turn the volume control up a little, we can hear the scuttling movements of occupants plugging themselves into techno gizmos, to communicate with others such as themselves.

The lonely plug into their computers to 'chat' online through Facebook or any other of their chosen 'net addresses. Face to face contact is not the same, Skype has seen its light of day. But that could be seen as a good thing, considering it has brought people from thousands of kilometres away toward each other.

From thousands of kilometres away they can now come together, no fear of human viruses, well, except for the mental health ones. Introducing 'The Avatar', 'The Profile', the imaginary existence of who we want to be. {psst just keep my identity secret, we trust no one. wait, I think I'm talking to myself?}

No human contact required, even human reproduction doesn't deem necessary 'equality of conception' as it was 40years ago.

As Feral Cheryl fly's from Bairnsdale to the Valley she notices the pollution seeping downward from unhealthy water sources. It is inevitable that 'acid rain' will bring pollution from hundreds of kilometres away, to the pristine lakes. And where the birds could gather their healthy supply of fish, now they gather black oil in their feathers. Black oil that clogs up the holes of their beaks, unable to breath they suffocate. And the fish, are genetically changed, no longer holding the necessary sustenance required.

But we won't let Feral Cheryl suffer, I won't allow for her to be sad anymore. What can I do? What can you and we, all do?

We can stop throwing our rubbish on the ground, we can recycle, we can resume planting trees and letting them grow. We can resume growing vegetables and fruit and sharing with one another.

We can contribute spare pennies to the conservation foundations. We can educate the children, our saviours of tomorrow.

**~ Fini? Never ~**

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**Extra Note of Importance: **I'm not pushing for you to contribute where or what you want to do with your money. **My story is just a story.** But it'd be nice if you put your rubbish in the bin. ** I prefer not to walk on rubbish.**


End file.
